


Mint Tea

by amanda_jolene



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Gen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1469149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanda_jolene/pseuds/amanda_jolene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's got a few tricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mint Tea

He sorting through his records while she’s downstairs making them a cup of tea. They should both be at school but the thought of just being alone all day is too appealing. 

Rae returns with one mug and a wicked smile spread across her face.

"Where’s mine?" Finn asks, pouting slightly. 

"Thought we’d share a cup." 

He’s not so thrilled as he looks in the mug at the very clearly plain tea. “Don’t you usually take sugar?” 

She takes a sip, presses her mouth to his, tongue flicking over his bottom lip. When she pulls away, his mouth is tingling. “Not today. You’ll sweeten it up for me.” 

He feels her words in his groin, a fire spreading across his lower stomach and he’s slack jawed as she takes another sip and kisses him again. He’s pretty sure it’s the mint tea his dad loves so much and Finn hates but right at this moment he wished he had a whole bath of it. Wherever her mouth and tongue land (and she’s on the prowl across his neck) tingles and he’s dead and in heaven when it finally registers that she’s pulling his shirt up. 

"That’s a lad," she murmurs when he finally snaps out of his haze and shucks his shirt off. He’s panting every time she takes a sip, body on edge in anticipation of where her mouth is going to land next. When the blaze of her tongue lands on his left nipple, he almost balks but as she soothes over the teensy nub his head falls back and he starts to get why girls like it so much. 

The traces of mint tingle as they cool and he’s covered in goosebumps between the chill and her deliciously hot mouth. 

"Be a dear?" She asks, handing him the cup before sinking to her knees in front of him. She looses his belt, button and fly, mouth nipping at his navel before she nuzzles the faint trail of hair that disappears into the band of his boxers. Giving him a smile, she grasps his hand (it’s only tangling up her hair) and sucks his middle finger deep into her mouth. His mouth falls open, chin touching his chest (he’s trying to figure out how it’s possible that he can feel her mouth on his finger all the way down in his dick.)

"Witchcraft," he mutters. 

She releases the digit. “Sorry?” 

He makes a noise in the back of his throat unable to answer (or do anything more than just gawk at her, really) and she pulls his jeans down. 

Her hand grasps him through his boxers and he isn’t aware of how bad he’s trembling until tea sloshes out on his hand. It’s lukewarm but he’s pretty sure it could have been scalding hot and he wouldn’t have been able to tear his eyes away from her. Big brown eyes gazing up at him as she palms him through the flimsy material (in the back of his mind, he’s debating on never wearing underwear again). 

"Tea getting cold?" 

He’s thrown off guard. Tea? What tea? “Huh?” 

She releases him and stands, taking the mug from his hand (he feels a sting as his knuckles sing their praises of no longer having the cup in a death grip). She takes a sip, tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop on her lip and he’s just about to tell her all the indecent things he wants to do with that mouth when she tuts, “Getting a bit cold.” 

(She leaves him standing there bewildered with his legs shaking.)

She could have been gone hours but Finn’s still hard when she gets back. The tea is nice and warm again with a little more tingle as she kisses him thoroughly (and senseless, to be honest). “Bit of spearmint oil, ” she offers nonchalantly as he pants. 

"Why don’t you sit?" He’s thankful for the invitation because he doesn’t have enough blood circulating to keep him upright much longer. He’s watching her expectantly, ready for her next move but she just smiles at him. 

"Rae," he tries and if he were in a right state, he’d die of shame at the neediness in his voice. 

"I love you, Finn Nelson." She kneels down again and pushes him back. He’s staring at his ceiling but he wants to be looking at her and when he raises up a bit, she places a firm hand on his stomach. "Lay down, Finnley." 

Something warm and round and heavy lands on his stomach. She’s set the tea cup on his stomach and presses a kiss to his thigh. “Don’t spill it.” She starts pulling his boxers down and when he lifts his hips to help, tea sloshes over the sides and runs in rivulets down his stomach and sides. His moan is throaty and the volume raise as her tongue laps it all up, head nearly cracking the wall she dips into his navel. 

She takes a big drink, swallows, and finally (fucking finally) takes him in her mouth. It’s so warm and wet and fuck fuck fuck. He makes a sounds that’s half moan, half bleating goat and his mouth snaps shut, eyes popping open as she chokes around him. She pulls back, tries not to laugh and fails miserably. 

"S’not funny!" He tries to be cross but when she imitates the sound, he laughs, too. 

The laughter dies in his throat though as she brings the cup to her mouth, tongue edging the rim, teasing. Another drink and she’s back around him, but this time she soothes a warm bath of tea around the head of his cock. His hands clench the sheets, thighs taut as she kneads them. He moans her name loudly and tries to keep from thrusting into her mouth. 

It goes on forever. He’s tingly and delirious and he’s clenched and yanked the sheet so much, it’s come off the bed. He’s watching her as she pulls off with a wink, hand working him just the right way as she takes a swig. This is the big finale, he can feel it in his bones (but mostly in his dick), and he’s not disappointed as she takes him all the way down, swallowing both him and the tea. 

Finn unravels. He speaks a foreign language that screams her praises (he decides at that very moment that she is clearly a goddess and he has it way too good) and tension tears leak from the corners of his eyes. He’s spasming long after she stops, tingly and buzzing as she kisses up his stomach and chest. 

"Alright?" she asks.

He can’t speak or even left his fingers to write something. He manages a nod (he thinks… his body with jelly and he was having hallucinations). She covers them both and cuddles him up, and Finn promptly falls asleep in a mess of tea stained sheets. 

He’ll never be able to enjoy anything remotely mint in polite company again.


End file.
